reminders
by starkhasheart
Summary: Carlos has doubts. Cecil reassures him.


In truth, Carlos doesn't really admire himself as much as one should. Some could say that he actually detests himself to a point where looking at himself in the mirror is essentially a painful experience for him. He's always quick to avoid mirrors whenever he can. It's probably best to avoid mirrors in Night Vale, anyway. There might be something wrong with them and he'll end up falling into a parallel universe and won't be able to get back out.

Carlos's work is a way for him to avoid letting his thoughts overcome him. When these thoughts haunt his mind he goes outside and just looks around for the next oddity in Night Vale that he needs to study, to figure out, and then he's good for a while. His mind's busy with formulas and theories, too focused on science to berate him.

After spending a wonderful night at Cecil's house he's getting ready to leave for work when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. For some reason, he halts, turning his full attention to his reflection staring him back. He narrows his eyes, examining every part of himself, and his double copies his moves. His eyes land on his hair, grown out from when he last had it cut (much to Cecil's chagrin) and his eyes catch something most peculiar. Within the waves of dark brunette hair he spots a peppering of grey and he sighs a tad too loud.

"Carlos?"

He turns slightly to see Cecil slowly making his way towards him, buttoning up his shirt. Carlos observes the tattoos on his skin, inky black lines that seem to sway and move with Cecil's mood. He can still see the lines spidering along Cecil's torso under the fabric of his shirt.

"What's the matter?" Cecil asks, snapping Carlos out of his observations. "You seem out of it, are you feeling all right?"

"Oh, I, erm." Carlos runs a hand through his hair, searching for words. "I just. Saw something, in the mirror—"

"Saw what?"

"Oh, nothing serious, just a couple greys." He sighs, picking up a lock of hair between his fingers and twisting it around before letting it fall back to his head. "Guess my hair's not that perfect after all."

"_Carlos_." Cecil narrows his eyes and his hands go to frame Carlos's face, making it impossible to avoid eye contact. "A few grey hairs isn't going to change anything. No matter what, I'll always think your hair is perfect, if it's grey or completely gone. I'll always think _you're_ perfect." He leans up on the tip of his toes to kiss Carlos's hair. "Do you understand me, Carlos?"

Carlos doesn't say anything, because the words are evading him. Cecil narrows his eyes and his hands fall to Carlos's, curling around them and holding them up to his chest. "Your hands. I know you don't like your hands. You think they're ugly, too gnarled with scars and burns and calluses from work but I think they're wonderful." Cecil kisses each fingertip, and Carlos can feel his eyes beginning to sting.

"And your eyes. I know you don't care for your eyes." Cecil reaches up and brushes the hair shadowing Carlos's eyes. "You don't like the color. You don't like the dark circles under them." Carlos closes his eyes as Cecil leans up and brushes his lips softly over each eyelid. "I think they're beautiful. Your eyes are like the color of chocolate and you obviously do not realize how much I love chocolate." His fingertips softly run over the dark circles. "You know what these show? Sleepless nights of hard work, and that's perfect. You work so hard doing the thing you love and I love that so much, it's perfect, perfect, _perfect_. I think you are _perfect_, my beautiful Carlos. I wish that it were possible for you to see yourself through my eyes."

Carlos doesn't realize the tears brimming and falling over the lids of his eyes until Cecil's brushing them away. "T-Thanks, Cecil. I really don't know what to say…"

Cecil flashes a grin. "You're quite welcome. Everyone just needs a reminder of how great they are. Don't you think?" He presses a kiss to Carlos's lips and Carlos kisses back and they don't stop until they're flushed and out of breath.

"We're both probably going to be late now," Carlos murmurs.

Cecil shrugs. "If station management has a problem then they can take it up with me. I figure I have a good excuse for why I'm late."

"You sure?"

Cecil gives him a soft smile. "Of course. You are my first priority, after all."


End file.
